


The Prince and the Knight

by Husaria



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Chastity Device, M/M, Virginity Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the anniversary of the Union of Lublin. Sir Toris must rescue Prince Feliks from his tower, but Prince Feliks has some tests for his savior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince and the Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted from [my tumblr](http://lituaniae.tumblr.com/post/54405073004/the-prince-and-the-knight).

Lithuania sweltered under the plate armor and cape. His cotton tunic and breeches stuck to his skin. At this point, he might not be able to get his boots off. His hair was soaked with sweat and he wiped some drops off his forehead. His face burned under the harsh sunlight and the stares coming from the group of nuns across the street.

He took out his cell phone and groaned when he saw the time. Fifteen more minutes. Poland pushed him outside and said that he needed an hour to get ready. Lithuania had been sitting on the front steps of Poland’s house in this ridiculous knight get-up. Groups of children laughed at him, one man asked if he was lost on his way to a historical reenactment, and now the nuns stared at him.

_Lord, give me the strength to get through the next fifteen minutes._

The phone buzzed, indicating the timer had run out. Lithuania stood up and composed himself. If he broke character, Poland would not be happy.

“Prince Feliks, where art thou?” he called.

Poland’s head emerged from the second story window. He waved a white handkerchief in his hand. He wore a golden crown on his head, and from Lithuania’s perspective, no shirt.

“Dear knight,” Poland said in a high desperate voice, “you have come to rescue me from, like, my tower.”

Lithuania tried not to snort at the use of the word “like”. “My prince, I have come to save you and collect your father’s reward.”

“Be warned, dear knight. There are three powerful beasts guarding my chambers. I pray that you have the strength and wits to get passed them.” He blew Lithuania a kiss. “Be strong, my knight.”

“For you, I have the strength of Casimir the Great.”

“Take my token with you, my knight.” Poland let go of the handkerchief. It fluttered to the middle of the street, where it was unceremoniously run over by a truck. Lithuania inched across the street and picked up the filthy piece of cloth. The nuns continued to stare, no doubt disapproving a half-naked man throwing a favor to a man dressed up as a knight.

“I-I shall cherish it,” Lithuania said. He slipped the handkerchief under his belt.

“Be brave, dear knight. I await you at the top of the tower.” Poland retreated into the room and shut the window.

“We will pray for you two,” a nun said behind Lithuania.

“I’ve said enough prayers for the both of us.” He left them on that note. He entered the house and was greeted by a pony by the staircase.

“So you’re the first ferocious beast?” he asked her gently, petting her head. This wasn’t the first time Poland had allowed one of his ponies in the house.

Miła the brown pony whinnied. Lithuania sighed. The house was cool and air-conditioned. He didn’t feel like he was cooking in his armor anymore. He remembered fighting battles in these clothes in the middle of summer, and it didn’t seem to bother him back then.

“What’m I suppose to do with you?” he asked. The pony’s ears twitched, and she nibbled on his sleeve. “Are you hungry?” The pony didn’t answer that. Lithuania slipped into the kitchen and took out a carrot from the fridge.

“Here.” Miła happily took the carrot and trotted away from the staircase. Hopefully, she wouldn’t make a mess in the living room.

“Prince Feliks, I have slain the first beast!” he yelled.

“Oh good!” He heard Feliks’ voice muffled through the walls. “Fair knight, you are very nearly close to me. Be careful.”

Lithuania ascended the stairs. Poland had a number of animals in his care—ponies, horses, dogs, cats. Lithuania had already taken care of the pony, and he doubt Poland got a horse up the stairs. Poland’s Siberian cats hissed and scratched him (a fact which made Russia laugh and Poland fume).

Before he could think more on this, a furious barking reached Lithuania’s ears as a shaggy brown and white sheepdog ran up to him. The second ferocious beast.

“Hello, Bartek,” Lithuania said.

Bartek yipped at him. No matter which way Lithuania tried going up the stairs, Bartek barked and rolled over on his back.

Lithuania rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

He went down on one knee and scratched his belly. Bartek panted and wagged his tail. After about a minute or so of that, Bartek flipped over on his stomach and ran down the stairs, his barking causing Miła to neigh nervously.

“The second beast is slain, Prince Feliks,” Lithuania said. “I am very nearly there, my prince.”

“Take caution, dear knight,” Poland called. “The third and final beast is the most dangerous. I hope you can pass it alive.”

Lithuania walked down the hallway. There was ones of Poland’s dogs, his pony…what other animal could Poland bring up here? When he turned to enter the short hallway to Poland’s room, he groaned.

“Iskierka.”

The green dragon lay curled in front of Poland’s bedroom, puffs of smoke emerging from her nostrils with each breath. At the sound of his voice, her gold eyes opened and she let out an indignant snarl. She spread her wings. It was a lot easier to get rid of Miła and Bartek; Lithuania had no idea what to do with Iskierka.

“Uhhh…” Was asking for hints allowed? “This beast is…nearly besting me, my dear prince. How ever shall I get past it?”

“Just, like, remember what calms the beast down.” Poland sounded impatient. Lithuania could see him in there, sprawled on top of the bed in some seductive get-up, toes curled, hair splayed on the pillow, his body pale and smooth and ready to be marked.

To Lithuania, calming the beast down made him think of one thing. He bent down to touch the dragon’s head, but Iskierka leapt up and bit his hand through the leather glove. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to make marks in the leather.

“My…My prince, it’s not working!” he exclaimed. Alarm coursed through him. Iskierka had known him for  _centuries_. She wouldn’t really attack him, would she?

“You’re totally doing it wrong!” Poland was getting frustrated. “Come on, Li—my fair knight. What puts a dragon to sleep?”

Lithuania stared at Iskierka, who hissed at him. He was  _not_  going to sing to the dragon and sing _what_?

“Errm,  _jeszcze Polska nie zg_ —”

Iskierka let out a little roar and flapped her wings in his face, rising a few feet off the ground. So she didn’t appreciate the Polish national anthem.

“Alright, alright!” Lithuania said. He was supposed to put Iskierka to sleep. With a lullaby. Not Poland’s national anthem. Did he know any Polish lullabies?

_“Był sobie król—”_

Iskierka hissed and snapped in his direction. He couldn’t blame her; that was a gloomy lullaby.

_“Aaaa kotki dwa—”_

Sparks flew from Iskierka’s mouth. She hovered directly in front of Lithuania, flapping her wings quickly, blowing air in his face. This whole challenge was getting very stressful. Now Lithuania was sure she would attack him if he got this one wrong.

“Uhhh… _Z popielnika na Wojtusia…”_

Iskierka chirped and landed on the floor, watching him.

“Umm ahh…” Lithuania kicked himself for not thinking of this song one first. The dragon’s  _name_  was in it. “ _Iskiereczka mruga_ …” Iskierka curled on the floor and covered her face with a wing.

When Iskierka fell asleep a few verses later, Lithuania knew the third beast had been conquered.

“Prince Feliks,” he said. He stepped over Iskierka and opened the door to Poland’s bedroom.

He gasped and closed the door behind him. Poland laid on the bed just as he imagined, toes curled, hands clutching the blankets, flashing Lithuania the most wanton look possible and batting his eyelashes. He was naked except for a strange belt around his waist, his cock being contained in a tube of some kind.

“My dear knight,” he whispered. “You’ve finally come.”

“I…I have,” Lithuania said. “I have conquered the beasts in my path.” He cleared his throat. It wasn’t good that he was wearing layers and layers of fabric; those would take forever to take off.

“Good.” Poland’s eyes were half-closed and he sighed softly. “Come here, sweet knight.”

Lithuania walked to the foot of the bed.

“What is your name, sir?” Poland asked.

“Sir Toris Laurinaitis,” Lithuania replied. “I come from a faraway land to the east by the name of Lietuva.”

“Sir Toris of Lietuva.” Poland crawled towards Lithuania. A silly grin came on his face. “A foreigner. You’re so  _handsome_ , Sir Toris.” Poland stood on his knees and ran his fingers through Lithuania’s hair.

“And you are a very handsome prince,” Lithuania replied courteously. “Am I permitted to touch you?”

“You are.”

Lithuania removed his gloves and ran his hands up Poland’s sides. Poland was lean, yes, but he was never too thin, and Lithuania felt the muscles under his touches.

“Prince Feliks,” he said. “I believe there is the subject of your father’s reward. Mayhaps it has something to do with your being naked?”

“My, aren’t you a quick one, Sir Toris?” Poland giggled, and Lithuania’s blood surged south.

“My dear, dear,  _handsome_  knight. My champion.” He leaned in close to Lithuania’s ear. His hands found his waist and began undoing the belt and sash. When both fell on the floor, Poland worked on the laces of his armor.

“Sir Toris, your reward is to take my maidenhood.”

Poland needed to take off his pants. Like,  _now_. Everything was getting all cramped and stuffy and stiff down there.

“Your maidenhood?” Lithuania lifted the plate armor over his head and set it down on the floor. “My reward is m-making love to you?” His face burned.

“Yes,” Poland said. “I need to see—” Lithuania gasped as Poland groped his cock through his trousers. “—if your flesh sword is as good as your steel one.”

Where did Poland come up with these lines? Lithuania gulped and yet needed to hold back laughter.

“Y-Y-Yes, of course,” he sputtered in a voice higher than normal. “I-I-I’d be more than happy to show you.”

Poland briefly scowled at Lithuania’s tone but composed himself. “I hope you shall not fail me, Sir Toris. It’d be such a disappointment to being waiting here for years for the perfect knight only to have him be…lacking in his equipment.” He swiped his hand over the outline of Lithuania’s erection, which no doubt grew more prominent with each passing moment. Lithuania groaned. “But from what I feel you are, like, far from a disappointment.”

_Damn him and his good acting_ , Lithuania thought. “I-I don’t think I will disappoint you, my prince,” he said.

“Good.” Poland sat back on the bed, a pleased expression on his face. “Now take off the rest of your clothes because I can’t.”

Lithuania sighed. Even in a roleplay, Poland was the demanding one. Nonetheless, Lithuania complied, removing his tunic, the chain mail and his undershirt. Poland’s eyes smoldered while each piece of clothing fell to the floor. At one point, he winced uncomfortably, and he crossed his legs. It might have something to do with that strange belt on his waist.

“You look pained, my prince,” Lithuania pointed out, hands reaching to undo his trousers.

“It’s…this belt,” Poland said in a strained voice. “It prevents me from…becoming aroused.”

“Oh no. That sounds very painful.”

“It…” With a moan, Lithuania’s pants fell to the floor, his freed cock springing up. “…is…” Poland’s eyes widened, and he looked at Lithuania with worry. “M-My dear knight, you are very well-endowed.”

“Yeah…I-I mean, I know,” Lithuania corrected himself.

Poland patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come here so that we may, like, love the other.”

Lithuania wasted no time in crawling across the bed to his little love. He settled on his back, putting an arm over the prince’s shoulder and gazing into his eyes.

“I’d love nothing more than to…make love to you, my prince, but…” His eyes shifted towards his groin. “The belt…”

“Oh duh I totally forgot!” Poland’s hand slipped under his pillow and pulled out a small key. “This should open the lock. Once it’s open, we can make love all night long.”

“Don’t we have dinner reservations at seven?” Lithuania interrupted without thinking.

Poland lightly slapped his arm. “Hush, dear knight. Open my belt.”

“I’d be more than happy to.” Lithuania found the small lock on top of the belt and unlocked it. It easily slid down Poland’s legs. Poland let out a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around Lithuania’s shoulders. He pouted. “My sweet Toris, since I’ve been wearing that belt for an awfully long time, my spear isn’t sharpened.” It stunned Lithuania how Poland could say all this with a straight face. _Lithuania_  had trouble not chuckling.

“Would you like me to sharpen your spear before we make love, dear prince?” He gently grasped the base of Poland’s flaccid penis.

“ _God_  yes,” Poland moaned. “Kiss me sweetly, Sir Toris.”

Lithuania kissed him.

Poland’s cock grew firm as Lithuania tugged. Poland cupped his cheeks with both hands and whimpered, pressing closer to Lithuania. Poland Their hips hugged, their tongues touched. Poland wrapped his hand around Lithuania’s cock, and Lithuania gasped, driving his tongue forward deeper and deeper into Poland’s mouth. With his free hand, he pushed Poland until he was on top, reaping those soft lips, tasting Poland’s delicious mouth.

“My dear prince,” Lithuania murmured.

“Please, Sir Toris.” Poland whimpered again; Lithuania had buried his head in his neck and kissed, sucked, marked. “My sweet knight.”

Dirty thoughts infiltrated Lithuania’s mind, and he gave his cock a squeeze. His dear Poland, writhing underneath him, whimpering, screaming in pleasure as Lithuania finally hit the spot where—

“M-My prince.” His manhood and Poland’s hand were slick with his precum. Lithuania thrusted his hips, sliding their cocks together, groaning.

Poland squeaked. “S-Sir Toris…!”

“I-I think it’s best if we start now,” Lithuania panted. “My prince—Feliks—”

“O-Oil,” Poland whispered. “I, like, have oil in my nightstand. P-Please.”

Lithuania rolled off Poland and opened the nightstand drawer. He found the “oil”, which was a tub of cookies and cream flavored lube. Lithuania poured some in his hand and rubbed it on his cock.

“Turn around!” Poland said. “I-I want to see too.”

Lithuania shifted around on his knees until he was kneeling in front of Poland. If Poland wanted a show, he’d give him a show. Drawing out another moan, he rubbed his long shaft, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the head.

“You’re so well-endowed,” Poland whispered. “My sweet knight, I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit.”

“I think I will.” Lithuania sighed as his hand moved to his balls. “I can…can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Come and make love to me.” Poland held out his arms. “Please, sweet knight.”

Lithuania nodded and inserted a finger, then two inside Poland. Poland was still a bit loose from their infrequent romps; Lithuania didn’t worry about stretching him.

“Kiss me, Sir Toris.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Lithuania kissed him, pulling Poland closer by his legs and nudging his entrance with the tip of his cock. Poland broke away to whisper,  _“Put it in.”_

With a grunt, Lithuania entered him, closing his eyes as his cock pushed through. Poland whimpered and threw his arms around his neck, lifting his hips, his mouth slightly open, eyes half-closed.

“Oh  _S-Sir…_ ” he said.

“All in,” Lithuania murmured. “M-My dear prince…” His hand ran down Poland’s smooth thigh. “I’m all in.”

“M-Move…”

Lithuania pushed in and out a few times. Sweat began to form on his forehead, and he whispered a small,  _“Yes.”_

“More…” Poland said.

Lithuania quickly became drunk on the feeling of being inside him—his thrusts became harder, faster; a flush spread on his face and neck. His hands fell upon Poland’s chest. Poland moaned writhed and thrusted his hips in time with Lithuania’s, helping his knight go deeper, wanting him to reach that sweet spot.

“Y-You…You aren’t disappointing me…” Poland said. He bit his bottom lip, and he turned his eyes up at Lithuania, glazed with pleasure. “P-Please, my knight.” He took one of the hands on his chest and intertwined their fingers.

Lithuania shifted his angle and gave a hard push and Poland yelped, squeezing his hand.

_“G-God.”_

That was it. He placed his other hand on his leg and spread Poland wider. He pounded into that same spot again and again. He surged forward when Poland’s pants turned into whimpers, then into gasps, and then—

_“Oh Liet, fuck me!”_

Lithuania moaned and fucked him as he requested, slamming into his sweet spot, his ears drinking the sound of Poland screaming underneath him. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head rolled back on the pillow, the comforter bunched around him. The same flush that covered Lithuania covered him.

The thrusts grew shorter, faster, harder. His stomach tightened. Sweat dripped down his face. He became lost in the sound of flesh on flesh, Poland’s screams, the touch of their hands together, the nails digging into Poland’s flesh, the intoxicating feeling of being inside him, one.

His thrusts became erratic and off-rhythm, and like Poland, he had shut his eyes. Then Poland shrieked and Lithuania saw and thought nothing.

Pleasure shot through him as he came, his cum coating Poland’s increasingly tighter walls. He felt Poland spasm and shudder beneath him and squeezed his hand to the point of breaking it.

Both of them lay there in the afterglow before they came to. Lithuania’s eyes were still misted as he gazed down at Poland, who was still spasming slightly from the orgasm. Fresh semen coated his abdomen. It took longer for him to open his eyes, but when he did, he grinned, wrapping his arms around Lithuania and bringing him down.

“W-Wow. God, that was, like, so great,” he whispered and buried his fingers in Lithuania’s hair.

Lithuania kissed his forehead and tasted sweat. “Mmm, I enjoyed it a lot.”

Poland nestled his head in Lithuania’s neck, starting to stroke his strands. He settled his hands on Lithuania’s back, and Lithuania smiled at the feeling of his soft hands on his scars. “You’re such a hot knight.”

“And you’re a handsome prince.” They kissed again. Lithuania tucked Poland’s head under his chin and breathed in deeply, catching the scent of sweat, poppies. And rye. Always rye.

“Liet, you’re totally crushing me.”

“O-Oh, sorry.” Lithuania rolled off to the side, slipping out of him. Poland sweetly cuddled into his chest, wrapping his arms around his neck, throwing a leg over his hip.

“Much better.” Poland looked up at him. “Hey, guess what?”

Lithuania looked at him with an amused expression. “What?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, mylimasis. Happy Anniversary.”

“444 years.” Poland kissed his cheek.

Lithuania held him and they lay there together for what seemed like hours, enjoying the feeling of being with the other.

Then Poland said, “You don’t think the animals, like,  _heard_  everything, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> Bartek is a breed of dog known as the Polish Lowland Sheepdog.
> 
> The lullabies Lithuania sings are actual Polish lullabies - "Był sobie król", "Kotki dwa", and "Bajka iskierki". Iskierka means "little spark" in Polish, appropriate for the name of a dragon.


End file.
